


KFC For the Soul

by katrau



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21978757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katrau/pseuds/katrau
Summary: Bokuto and Akaashi go to the theme park.
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2019





	KFC For the Soul

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bokutoppai](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutoppai/gifts).



In the sixteen hours since his plane landed, Akaashi had tried on at least thirty pairs of cartoon mouse ears. Among the plethora of choices and stores, only eighteen were official, and out of those Bokuto had narrowed it down to a pair with wings and another with volleyballs substituted for its ears. Akaashi ended up buying both.

Bokuto practically vibrated throughout the day talking about the ‘super duper special surprise’ he was planning for Akaashi. He’d routinely go on about how glad he was that Akaashi could visit him and go on about all the sights they were going to see, then emphasize how  _ super special _ and  _ magical  _ their weekend plans were.    


From the car ride to the mall, Bokuto had littered their conversations full of the most obvious clues to what the surprise was. (“Hey, Akaashi! I really think our dreams are gonna come true this weekend! Isn’t that great? Right, Akaashi? Right?”) While Akaashi had no problem handling Bokuto’s usual excitement, he would have liked if he had been able to take a nap in between some of it. (“Hey, hey! You’re not getting tired now, are you? It’s still noon!”) But he managed to wake at a reasonable time today, so there was something to be grateful for that. Had it not been for Bokuto, Akaashi would have spent the first two days of his non-refundable and  _ very  _ expensive trip sleeping in his three-hundred-dollars-a-night hotel room.

“Hey, hey, hey, Akaashi! Are you surprised? Were you surprised?” Bokuto stood before Cinderella’s castle wide-eyed, and a smile as big as the force of his personality. 

“Yes,” Akaashi adjusted the cartoon mouse ear headband he’d been wearing since that morning, “I’m very surprised.” He tried to forget the two hundred meter  _ Welcome to Disney World (Where Dreams Come True) _ sign they drove past forty-five minutes ago.

“Where’s the energy?”

Akaashi blinked, “Bokuto-san, it is eight in the morning.” Which, according to Bokuto was a privilege since the park apparently opened at nine. Perks of international training excursions included an extra hour at theme parks, Akaashi supposed. Or at least, an extra twenty minutes since they got lost on their way after Bokuto had insisted on getting a rental car and driving. 

“It’s almost nine, and you went to sleep at ten! And remember to drop the  _ san _ !” 

“My mistake— and that is true but,” Akaashi moved closer towards Bokuto, careful to avoid bumping into a family walking past. “It is a fourteen hour time difference. I do need some time to adjust.”

“Oh, the time difference, right.” Bokuto considered. “So, where d’ya wanna go first? I kinda want to go ride Splash Mountain first, but then again we can start with a show while there’s no line, but Splash Mountain is a classic! And— oh. We should really get out of the way.” 

Before Akaashi could respond, Bokuto had grabbed his hand to steer them both out of the way of some inattentive tourists about to run them over with a stroller. Akaashi expected them to step towards the side, but Bokuto’s grip on his hand is tight and he maneuvered them past the growing crowd instead. They moved away from the castle, Akaashi straggling behind Bokuto’s pace, slowing once they reached a relatively less populated area. 

“So, what about you, Akaashi? What do you want to do?”

Akaashi tried not to think about how Bokuto still hadn’t let go of his hand. He pretended his face was heating up because he had to speed past swathes of people, and that his palm was clammy since that is a natural thing for palms to do. It’s because of that, the heat from Bokuto’s hand in his, and nothing else. 

“Ah, Splash Mountain is fine.”

* * *

Splash Mountain was not fine. The cold in Florida didn’t compare to Tokyo at all, it could hardly even be classified as cold, but after going down a drop of about sixty four kilometers per hour, absolutely drenched in water Akaashi could say he was freezing. 

The gift shop that lead out of the ride offered some warmth, but only briefly, before the two of them shuffled back out into the December air. After leaving the ride, he finally understood why there wasn’t a wait time for the ride. Akaashi assumed it was since the ride itself just opened, which allowed Bokuto to ask the attendant if they could just keep going until more people came, but soon he learned he was wrong. Once the fourth wave of water came and the air hit, Akaashi was reduced to shivering in his solitary wool sweater. 

Bokuto didn’t protest at all when Akaashi decided he was going to choose what they’d do next.

Akaashi took a map he pocketed earlier and made the effort to properly choose their next destination. Bokuto probably wanted to go on another ride, but Space Mountain— which was apparently a different ride, Akaashi couldn’t tell from the name— was too far of a walk. The other rides that were considerably closer were not exciting enough for the first few attractions of the day, and he doubted either of them were hungry enough to warrant going into a restaurant. 

“Akaashi,” Bokuto stood close to Akaashi, lips settled into a pout and hair weighed down. “I’m cold.”

Akaashi looked up from the map. In the past, Bokuto had walked into the frigid air in a mere sweatshirt, completely unbothered by the wind and snow. But of course now Bokuto with his unzipped jacket and damp shirt clinging to his skin would be cold. Bokuto was wearing layers so thin Akaashi could see his muscles rippling as he shivered, skin pulsing as loose droplets trailed from his jaw down his throat. “I know, that’s usually what happens when you’re wet and it’s ten degrees out.” 

“I was cold this morning too!” Bokuto buried his head in Akaashi’s neck. He smelled like body spray, hair gel, and water leftover from Splash Mountain. Bokuto made the scent harder to ignore when he wrapped his arms around Akaashi’s back. 

“Didn’t you know it would be this cold, though?” Though for Akaashi it wasn’t that cold anymore, using his free hand to brush the tangles out of Bokuto’s hair. “You’ve been living here for awhile now.” 

“I’m not living here! Just a quick visit, remember? And, no, I didn’t know. It’s supposed to be warm here, right? Nice and warm and toasty. Maybe not toasty, or nice, but definitely warm! Akaashi,” he groaned. “Where are we going? I wanna get warm.”

“Yes, I remember. Just another month or so until you can come home.” Akaashi folded the map and placed it back into his front pocket, then checked his phone for the time. “Come on, we’ll go meet Elsa, it should be nice and warm  _ and _ toasty since it’s indoors.” 

* * *

An hour later and they were both still yet to meet Elsa and, to less positive reception, Anna. Bokuto undoubtedly complained when he saw the line. He whined in every which way, adjusting the tone ever so slightly with every reiteration of ‘Akaashi’ he let out. (“Akaashi, if you didn’t take so long drying off in the bathroom, the line wouldn’t be this long!”) The wait time would still be two hours and I needed to get gel off my hands, Akaashi wished to say, but instead he let Bokuto go into one of his tangents, and happily listened to the excited lilt in his voice. 

Akaashi leaned against the railing, returning Bokuto’s stories of vigorous training sessions, lively interviews, and sponsorships with his own about the tedious complexities of graduate school, then going onto discuss their plans for the day. Akaashi wanted to avoid any and all water rides going out, gimmicky food, and the ride with the small mechanical children. Bokuto wanted to go on the roller coasters and meet the Little Mermaid. Neither of them had any issues with the other’s requests. 

After forty-five minutes passed, Bokuto started questioning why the park was called “The Happiest Place on Earth.” 

“Because why would the happiest place on Earth have lines?” Akaashi had guessed.

“Exactly!” Bokuto replied, all too loudly for someone far too close to the next person in line. “My happiest place on Earth, though? I don’t think I have just  _ one  _ happy place though, or that it’s a place at all. I think my happiest is when I’m with my favorite people, like you, I think.” 

And somehow, this escalated to Bokuto talking about his happiest memories. Finding a 5000 yen bill on the ground, getting ice cream with Akaashi, becoming Fukurodani’s ace, studying with Akaashi, stuffing more marshmallows in his mouth than Kuroo at Kenma’s startup party, getting scouted, finding out Akaashi was visiting, playing a practice match against Ushijima’s team, picking Akaashi up into a hug at the airport, riding Splash Mountain without having to wait in line. 

Bokuto’s most fond memories, Akaashi noticed, were when they were together. After careful consideration, he realized the same can be said for himself. Winning his first game with Fukurodani, getting into university, seeing all his former upperclassmen at his graduation, and spotting Bokuto at the airport before he noticed Akaashi, shaking with excitement and a bouquet in hand. It felt odd that Akaashi still held onto his high school memories. Most people moved on. 

Although, he continued playing volleyball after high school, it never compared to the thrill he got from playing with Bokuto. Most of the talented players chose the professional track as soon as they graduated high school, and Bokuto was no exception. There was a surplus of wing spikers, some planning on playing professionally themselves. Those players never amounted to Bokuto. Akaashi realized, soon after graduating and after his first university game, there was another, more compelling reason he loved Bokuto’s presence. 

It’s why he realized video calls and Bokuto’s brief visits weren’t enough. Why he let Bokuto talk him into buying a plane ticket to visit for Christmas across the world, when he knew Bokuto was due back home next month. 

For some time, Akaashi had the fleeting thought that maybe it was reciprocated, Bokuto, after all, was always doing things _just friends_ normally wouldn’t. But Akaashi knew that Bokuto was as blunt as a rock and as expressive as they came. Had Akaashi meant something more, Bokuto would have said as much.

The line moved and Akaashi motioned forward as Bokuto began rambling about what he wanted for dinner. Fried chicken, apparently, with a side of potato wedges. 

* * *

_ “ _T_ hanks again, Elsa! _ ” Bokuto waved off. He walked backwards and almost tripped on a toddler.

Meeting princesses was not as thrilling as a thirty meter drop, but it was by far a more pleasant experience. Language barriers didn’t make any of Akaashi’s experience too awkward, thankfully. Akaashi had simply smiled and held up a peace sign, as did both Elsa and Anna. A simple picture on his phone he would inevitably post. 

On the other hand, Bokuto, polite and prince-like in his own way, had forgotten about Anna entirely and his English began to slur when he tried to, over-enthusiastically, respond to her question, resulting in him talking  _ at  _ her. Akaashi assumed their picture was nice anyway.

“Wait, wait.” Bokuto had stopped them both short towards the entrance of the building. He eyed the picture of himself. “Our hair is almost the same color.” 

Akaashi leaned over Bokuto’s shoulder, “And so it is.”

“We almost look like twins.” Bokuto turned to look at Akaashi. Bokuto, wide-eyed, furrowed brows, and unblinking, and Akaashi unable to decide whether or not to maintain eye contact when they were only centimeters apart. Akaashi thought Bokuto looked serious, and very much so, as if any response that wasn’t in agreement would immensely hurt him. 

Akaashi has missed this— Bokuto’s casual intensity about the most arbitrary things. Pillow fights, meat scrambles, running laps. He had this explosive nature that made it seem impossible for him to hide anything. Everything he did was done with so much. 

“Yeah,” and Akaashi, who almost misunderstood Bokuto’s proximity, reminded himself of the three years he’d spent alone. As close as Bokuto was, as much as Akaashi wanted to lean in and press their lips together, Akaashi knew nothing would come out of it. “Like those Miyas.”

Bokuto’s nose scrunched up then, slowly, he pulled away. “Yeah! Like those Miyas. I like that Atsumu; one time, though, I met his brother at a dinner, and he took all the good meat! And I told him ‘hey, I’d like you more if you saved me some meat,’ but then he didn’t.” 

“Most people can say that about you, too.” 

“Guess so.” 

They stopped their conversation, walking aimlessly around the park, completely unsure and indifferent as to where they’d go next, occasionally pointing at passing characters, food vendors, and rides. Space Mountain, unlike the similarly named Splash Mountain, was dark and made them both feel as if their heads were about to hit the ceiling. Bokuto more so, unable to shake the feeling, leaving the ride nervous and hunched over until they left the building. 

Neither of them had the patience to wait to sit down for a proper meal and instead shared a turkey leg while they sat across a lake. Bokuto, for the first time in his life, it seemed, passed opportunities to eat— all in favor of saving his appetite for fried chicken. 

When the sky dimmed to purple and left trails of gold at near dusk, Bokuto insisted on pictures in front of Cinderella’s castle, making Akaashi pose this way and that in all the ways he saw best to capture the light reflecting off Akaashi’s skin. 

At night, they followed streams of people to the Mainland USA streets, finding an unoccupied, though cramped, position near the park entrance. Ideally they would be standing close to the castle. From Akaashi’s understanding, Tinkerbell is supposed to soar through the sky, backdrop of blues and reds ablaze in a spectacular display of whimsy, magic, and other nouns eliciting vaguely fanciful imagery. The firework display wasn’t for another hour, but the crowds had gathered and nearly filled the space. 

“Hey, Akaashi? Are you sleepy? If you are, you can rest on my shoulder, a bit.” Bokuto interrupted.

Akaashi didn’t realize that up until then, they’d been enjoying each other in a comfortable silence. It wasn’t often that Bokuto kept quiet, as talkative as he was. “Huh? Yes, I’m fine. We got coffee earlier, so I should be okay.” 

“Oh. As long as you’re okay.” 

The air grew stale as passing guests made their way to their own spots around them. A vendor hung around the corner from where the two of them stood, their cart filling the air with popcorn and the sweet smell of churros. It was sweet, and most definitely artificial, but it was tempting. Akaashi realized he was hungry. He never noticed how truly hungry he was today, distracted by every ride and character, and Bokuto’s animated presence. 

“Your feet hurt, right?” Bokuto chimed in after a few minutes.

“Not really, no.”

“Oh.” He paused. “Well, mine don’t, either.” 

Akaashi wasn’t sure what to talk about, they’d already exhausted most relevant topics today and the day prior, but Bokuto seemed eager for conversation. “How did you like the park?” 

“Oh, I thought it was really cool.” None of the usual enthusiasm was present in Bokuto’s voice. No excited outburst, not a single ‘hey,’ no additional remark about the rides. “I just didn’t think we’d still be here this late.”

Akaashi took his phone out of his pocket and checked the time. It was still 8:10, well before the fireworks display was set to start. Akaashi assumed the two would stay until the late hours of the night to get the full Disney experience; the day started off with Bokuto saying as much. “I guess it is.” he paused, not quite sure how to reply. “Do you … do you think we can come back later this week?”

“Yeah, of course we can?” Bokuto took in Akaashi’s words carefully. “We can come back! So if you feel tired or anything, we can just come back.”

“Did you… want to go back to the hotel?” Akaashi wasn’t sure why Bokuto, as excited as he was earlier, seemed spurred by the idea of leaving. 

“No! Not unless you want to, I mean! I’m fine either way. Plus, I know that we can see the fireworks from your room, I made sure you could see it from there.”

“Right, the fireworks.” Akaashi felt like there was a missed opportunity there, but there was always another day. “Well, I am hungry, and I think all the restaurants around here would be closed if we stayed until it was over.”

“Oh, you’re hungry? Are we going? Okay, let’s go then!”

Akaashi was surprised. He thought, if anything, the two of them would stay in the park until they had to be chased out by a guard. Instead, Bokuto looked satisfied, humming as he grabbed onto Akaashi’s hand and left “The Most Magical Place On Earth.”

* * *

After the ferry and the shuttle, Akaashi and Bokuto finally made their way into the car. It was still weird for Akaashi, seeing his friend drive. It was a small reminder that they’ve grown older. “Where do you want to eat?” 

“Hmmm? Oh, don’t worry about that.” 

They pulled out the parking lot and into the traffic-lined highway. Akaashi didn’t want to imagine what the roads were like once the firework display was over. He only hoped for the best for the guests that would funnel into the roads later. 

“Did you have fun?” Bokuto asked.

“It was nice. I liked the commitment to the themed areas.” 

“That’s good. You know, after a while, I realized this might not have been the best idea for your first day here. I didn’t want you to miss anything, but also I forgot about jet-lag and timezone stuff.” Bokuto looked at him briefly, one hand steering and another resting on the back of Akaashi’s headrest. “You ever go to the Tokyo one?”

It’s safe to assume Bokuto was referring to Tokyo Disneyland, “I did. I went with my family when I was in grade school. I don’t remember very much, though.” 

“Oh! How is your family? I miss your mom’s cooking, by the way. She was always so nice!” 

“My family is well, my mother especially. She was always happy when you came over.” Akaashi fidgeted, pressing the pads of his fingers against each other.

“Really?” he smiled when Akaashi returned his question with a nod. “That means a lot.”

Akaashi looked out the window when their conversation went into a natural lull. There was always something new and interesting to look at. He wasn’t surprised to see even the streetlights were shaped like mouse ears.

“We’re almost there,” Bokuto spoke once they reached a red light, lightly squeezing Akaashi’s thigh. Akaashi placed his hand on top of Bokuto’s, and returned the gesture with a smile. 

* * *

Before Fukurodani, Akaashi never cared much for flowers. The cherry blossoms were always beautiful, but those were just that: beautiful. He knew the symbolism and cliches. Maybe in his childhood he was amazed by the blooming petals, swirling through the air, cascading in a vision of pink— but if so, he can’t remember. 

His first year, he had to walk past a grove with newly blooming flowers on his way home. The petals kept getting caught in his hair and flying into his mouth, and as a result, he ended up adopting a habit of using his blazer as a makeshift umbrella. His routine was to walk home alone with his blazer spread on top of his head, and ignore disapproving eyes. 

That was before he joined the volleyball club.

After a few weeks in the club, when cherry blossom season had already ended, Akaashi became well acquainted with Bokuto. Soon, they began walking home together. (Though, Akaashi didn’t understand why Bokuto wanted to walk home with him. They lived in completely different areas.) Sometimes they’d be joined by other members of the team. More often, it was just the two of them. Akaashi and Bokuto. From the gym and on the way home. Eventually they began sharing their time together during lunch, the weekend, and routine video calls at night. 

The second year soon started, and again, the petals bloomed. That first friday, as Akaashi neared the school gates, he was joined by Bokuto, Konoha, and Komi. The third years apparently decided that the four of them were getting ice cream together. When Akaashi turned to leave, Konoha offered to pay ‘out of the goodness of his heart.’ Ice cream itself wasn’t enticing but  _ free _ ice cream? Akaashi’s homework could wait.

The four of them crossed the gates, and Akaashi instinctively went to take off his blazer and spread it above his head.

“What’s that for, Akaashi?” Komi asked, breaking from playfully jabbing Konoha.

“This?” Akaashi motioned upwards. “It’s so the petals don’t get in my hair.”

“Really? Never thought you’d care about something like that,” Konoha asked, then rested his chin over Komi’s head, the way one does to his shorter friend, only to remind that friend that he is, in fact, short. Komi proceeded to walk as normal, though Akaashi knew that later Konoha was going to receive  _ retribution, _ as Komi would say. 

“It’s a pain when it gets in my mouth, too.” Akaashi added.

Komi seemed to consider this, “Makes sense.”

It took less time than Akaashi thought for Komi’s so-called retribution. The walk from the school to get ice cream wasn’t far, but the two upperclassmen forced the group to stop every few minutes, with either Komi or Konoha running away when one started elbowing the other. 

Now, it was Konoha who provoked Komi. Akaashi looked on as the two of them ran away once more. Somehow, Komi got the idea to ball up fallen petals and throw it like springtime snowballs at Konoha. Akaashi almost regretted tenting his blazer, wishing he had a free hand to take his phone out to record his teammates antics. 

_ They’re nationally ranked athletes _ , Akaashi reminded himself when the first ball of cherry blossoms landed on Konoha,  _ and third years— soon to be recognized as adults. _

“Akaashi?” Bokuto, who’d stayed quiet for most of the walk, spoke. “You got something on your cheek.”

“My hands are a bit full.” he once again motioned to his blazer. “Do you mind getting it for me?”

“Sure.” Bokuto moved closer, squinting as he picked the offending item off of Akaashi. “You had an eyelash on your cheek.”

“Thank you,” Akaashi replied, noticing how close Bokuto was. Akaashi could notice the small flecks of gold in Bokuto’s eyes, the scar on his brow, the creases on his lips. The eyelash was long gone, probably blown away by the wind, but neither of them were willing to move. 

“Akaashi?”

“Yes, Bokuto-san?” 

“Can I… can I try something? If you- if you don’t want to, that’s okay.” 

“Yes, you can.”

“If I had the wrong idea, just tell me, okay?” With that, Bokuto leaned in. Akaashi’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes. 

It was nice. Bokuto breathing so close, his hand on Akaashi’s cheek. Akaashi wasn’t even sure if this was what he wanted; but he knew he loved the feeling he got when he was around Bokuto, as a teammate and as a friend.

And though Akaashi didn’t subscribe to cliches before, he now understood the appeal. The warmth of the sun, the atmospheric pink, the flutter in his chest. It felt like the start to a lot of grand romances. So Akaashi let himself be swept away by the moment. 

Only, their lips never met.

“Komiyan!” Bokuto yelled. 

Akaashi felt Bokuto pull away, then opened his eyes to see Konoha had just ran past, Komi in pursuit. From the looks of it, Bokuto mistakenly got hit by a ball of cherry blossoms. 

Bokuto didn’t seem all too upset though, basking in the petals instead, taking whatever landed on his uniform and tossing it into the sky. Konoha, at the sight of Komi gathering more petals, ran away. 

Akaashi stood there, watching his upperclassmen enjoy the cherry blossoms, in ways nature did not intend. He now held his blazer to shield himself from whatever petals his friends threw. Whether he felt regret or relief when it came to Bokuto, he couldn’t tell. Akaashi could only assume that from whatever angle, neither Komi nor Konoha could tell their dear vice captain was about to receive a kiss. 

Then, Akaashi started to wonder, if Bokuto had even been leaning in for a kiss. Sure, Bokuto was close and leaning in, but had Komi actually interrupted an attempt at anything, he surely wouldn’t have acted so relaxed. Akaashi shouldn’t have made any assumptions. 

So Akaashi chose to live in denial that anything  _ more _ was going to happen that day. Even years later, when he could still imagine the petals fall around them and feel the heat of Bokuto’s touch when he sees him  _ properly  _ for the first time in years. 

-

Bokuto always tried to see Akaashi during the off season, when the whirlwind of interviews, brand deals, and so on came to a pause, but those visits were rare. School took up most of Akaashi’s time, and as much as Bokuto was okay with sneaking calls in during practice and quick lunches, he wanted more.

Bokuto wanted to be  _ with  _ Akaashi; he wanted more than a quick lunch before either one of the two had to leave for practice or class; he wanted to spend real time with Akaashi, to hold his hand, to come home to him. 

Bokuto nearly went into his notorious high school ‘emo mode’ when he found out his team was going to use the training facilities overseas. As if pining for someone in the same city wasn’t hard enough. At least Atsumu got to bring his twin along as one of the team’s cooks. 

When Bokuto joked during one of their routine calls that Akaashi should visit, he didn’t think that Akaashi would take it sincerely. But he probably missed Bokuto just as much, and for the first time Bokuto realized his feelings were probably reciprocated.

The second they pulled into the hotel parking lot, Bokuto quickly jumped out of the car. He dragged Akaashi alongside him through the hallways and practically leapt out of the elevator.

While Akaashi rummaged for the room’s key card, Bokuto tried to go over what he was going to say. It shouldn’t be too hard— he’s had since he was sixteen to prepare. Akaashi opened the door and turned on the lights, revealing what Bokuto’s worked towards for the past few weeks.

Bokuto loved surprises. Surprises always drew raw reactions out of people; he found that a person couldn’t hide what they felt, no matter what, as long as it was a surprise. But it was always hard for him to plan. He was excitable and could never keep quiet. That, and he was never as organized as he would like, so he rarely ever took the opportunity to plan for a surprise. Only, Akaashi was worth the effort. 

With weeks of preparation and help from his teammates, Bokuto made the hotel room look the perfect picture of Christmas. Sure, he had to give up some of his meat to the Miyas during the Black Jackal holiday party, but that was a small price to pay when the twins had to sneak a Christmas tree past hotel security. The twinkling lights that covered the room bounced off the ornaments and made even the drab wallpaper seem festive. And there was food too, still warm in it’s containers, graciously catered by Onigiri Miya.

“Happy late birthday, Akaashi! Or Merry Christmas? Happy late birthday, early Christmas?” Bokuto looked at his friend nervously, “Akaashi, say something.” 

“Was this the surprise? And why you wanted to leave?” Akaashi turned to look at Bokuto, “You really are incredible.”

“Yeah, I was scared the food was gonna get cold. That, and I was tired! I run miles and stuff, but standing in line? That was horrible! Where’s the fun in that?” With that, Akaashi let out the ugliest laugh, loud and prolonged. It was the best— the rare occasions when Akaashi dropped the niceties to unabashedly laugh, and it’s fitting that the fireworks started then. “Hey, look, it’s started! Let’s go to the balcony so we can see.”

They stepped into the cool December breeze, watching the display of colors burst in the air. Bokuto may have missed Tinkerbell on a zip-line, but the sight before him was better. 

“Bokuto-san?” Akaashi asked after a beat.

“Yeah, ‘Kaashi?” 

“Did you see what was hanging over there?” he gestured to the decorative fruit, its red berries drooping tastefully over the door frame. “Traditionally, you have to kiss someone when you’re under mistletoe.”

Bokuto wished he could have dignified Akaashi’s statement with a response, but instead he nodded profusely, and shakily reached over to cup the other’s face. It was a simple kiss. A quick peck that lasted a brief few seconds, as most mistletoe kisses go, and over far too soon. 

Bokuto pressed his forehead against Akaashi’s, eyes closed and hesitant to let go. He felt Akaashi brush his fingers over his, and then they kissed again. It lasted longer. This time, he pressed deeper into the kiss, and let Akaashi lean into his touch.

There was something surreal about the whole experience. Bokuto and Akaashi, heartbeats seemingly in sync to the rhythm of the fireworks, whispering intimate, loving words to each under the resounding explosions.  _ I really, really like you, Akaashi _ just sounds better when illuminated by the skyline, Bokuto thought. 

“I guess that was a confession? I mean, now that I think of it, I should have planned this out better, ‘cause like, what if you reject me, you know? Then you’ll be here for a week and it’ll be awkward. But I don’t think you will, will you Akaashi?” 

“No, I won’t.” Akaashi smiled. “Perhaps I was being a bit obtuse. Although I missed it at first, I feel like we’ve done just about everything today most couples would do for Christmas. Disney, fried chicken, all that.”

“Yeah! Got everything from a list on some website, actually.” 

“Was that the first time you tried to kiss me?”   
Bokuto’s one regret had always been running away from Akaashi that spring day, too scared his feelings were unrequited. “Nope! And it won’t be the last.” 

-

“Keiji?” 

“Yes, Koutarou?” It felt weird and heavy on Akaashi’s tongue. Odd that a difference in three syllables could carry so much. 

“There’s only one bed.” Bokuto said, then proceeded to lick grease off his fingers. 

“Just eat your fried chicken, Bokuto-san.”

“Come on, read the room! Or at least drop the _ san! _ ” 


End file.
